


When All This Ends

by qwanderer



Series: Pardicer [7]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Episode: s05e07 The Real Fake Car Job, Episode: s05e08 The Broken Wing Job, Light Angst, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 23:43:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9294917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qwanderer/pseuds/qwanderer
Summary: Eliot had no idea where his head was at right now, but he needed to figure it out before he broke something the three of 'em couldn't fix.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter borrows a lot of dialog from The Real Fake Car Job, second has a little bit from The Broken Wing Job but is also pretty involved with the plot. I was really going to post something after I saw TRFCJ but I couldn't figure out how to resolve it and TBWJ turned out to have a lot of the answers!

Eliot had been watching Nate and Sophie, had been noticing the way they were drawing away from the team, building up to something else. 

Something else could be anything, with Nate. He'd been raised a mobster and could still play the organized crime game with the best of 'em. He'd lived a normal life for a spell, wife and kids and legitimate job, and it had worked. He'd reinvented himself to lead this team, when the concept had come calling. 

With Sophie? Eliot wondered. She shuffled her identities like a deck of cards. She'd try and follow Nate, Eliot was sure, but whether or not she would succeed, kinda seemed like the luck of the draw. 

So that was what was in his mind as he drove with Hardison to the barn that held the classic car they were gonna borrow for the job. When Hardison opened the door, saw the car and said, "No way am I giving up this life to be an ordinary person." 

Something about that niggled at Eliot. The bitterest part of him wanted Hardison to feel that way too. "Did you talk to Parker about that?" he asked Alec. 

Hardison's eyes widened. "What'choo mean, why would I - no, she's the least ordinary person I know - _you_ know. Shoot. Wait. Do I have to talk to her about stuff like - ?" 

"Yeah," Eliot said, like it was obvious. Because with most people, it would've been. 

"'Cause I - you know what, forget it, let's... get to work." 

Hardison was flustered, but he calmed as they started in on the car, occasionally glancing Eliot's way. "Hey, Eliot," he said after a longer glance. "Would you ever want - " 

"No, you're right, we gotta focus on the work," Eliot interrupted. "Three minutes." 

Hardison shut up. Blessedly. And didn't do much but side-eye him on the drive back, looking contemplative. 

Eliot had no idea where his head was at right now, but he needed to figure it out before he broke something the three of 'em couldn't fix. 

* * *

Eliot warned Parker that he'd been an idiot and now Hardison was worried that she might want to retire from the life, someday. 

She stared at him for a long moment with those assessing, weighing eyes, then nodded. "I'll take care of him," she said. "And I'll deal with you later. So be ready." 

Eliot knew he had to figure himself out. 

He'd wanted it all, at one point or another, gettin' married, havin' kids, settlin' down and doin' good work that didn't involve hurting people. He'd given up on it all, too. Not because what he wanted changed, but because it was never gonna happen and it was either give up or go crazy. 

Terrible thing was, turned out the people who'd brought him back to a place where he might start to want those things again were some o' the last people on earth he'd be able to have those things with. 

Parker and Hardison surveilled in the van, probably having their little chat, and Eliot got to hang with Sophie, playing at being hit men, projecting their eerie characters. 

Sophie studied him, echoed him for this role, letting him lead but amplifying the parts they needed and guiding him a little. 

Sophie studied him, and commented, "So, what do you think you're gonna do, after all this is done?" 

Eliot didn't think she actually needed to follow his lead to be eerie, to be damn terrifying. 

"Always wanted to open up my own restaurant," he told her. "Now I'm probably gonna get stuck making sure Hardison's doesn't go out of business. Throw a couple of drunks out every once in a while. Maybe the place will get robbed once a year." Giving up the old version of his dream to play in Hardison's playground instead, be muscle when they needed it, didn't sound so bad. 

Problem was, "all this" wasn't something that ended, not for Parker and Hardison. 

The two "hit men" kept playing their game, drawing the marshal away. And Sophie kept pickin' at him. 

"So just for argument's sake, which one of us do you think would cope better? You know, with being an ordinary person? You know, without going... mad?" 

"Me." He didn't have to think. He knew. 

"Really? 'Cause, um... well, you know, I was thinking me." 

She wanted to be able to follow Nate, even if what he did next was settle down. Eliot wondered. Would Parker and Hardison try, if he asked? 

Would he want them to? 

He shook his head. "It's me." 

He didn't want it to be a contest. He wanted them both to be happy. Him an' Sophie. But in the end, he was afraid neither of 'em would cut it, neither of 'em would be able to swing the happy ending their lovers wanted. 

Sophie would flake on the normalcy Nate had managed for so long an' might want to have again. And Eliot might need something from Hardison and Parker that neither of them was prepared to offer. 

No, it wasn't a contest. It was a war called life, one that they could very well both lose. 

* * *

Parker and Hardison sat him down after the job was over, cornering him by the simple means of waiting until he had gone home and then breaking into his apartment again. 

Eliot kind of felt like he should make pie, for the sake of tradition. But this wasn't like last time. There was no easy answer. 

"We don't gotta talk about this," he told them. 

Hardison gave him a look. "We really do." 

"Eliot." Parker frowned at him. "We love you." 

Eliot gaped a little. He'd known Hardison did, but Parker saying that... he never thought it'd happen. 

"Do you want to retire?" Parker asked, with no further lead-up. 

"No," Eliot answered. 

"You're lying," Parker commented. 

"I'm not lying!" 

The two just stared at him as if they could see through him. As if they could see right into his heart. 

"I'm not lying... all the way, okay? I'm not the same kinda person I was when I wanted a wife an' kids. But hitting people's not what I'm about, deep down." 

"You're about food," Parker agreed, nodding. 

"Yeah, an' that's why you bought the pub, I get that. I can have that stuff and be on the team. Team's the most important thing to me. You two are." 

Hardison frowned. "But if you wanna retire, just cook... we could...." He glanced at Parker. "We could swing that. We could try it out. Normal life." 

Eliot laughed, shaking his head. "You know, normal people wouldn't see running a restaurant or two, maybe teaching a cooking class, as retiring. We'll never be normal, none of us." 

"We could stop the crime thing, though. Settle down. My brewing's getting better. I could take a crack at game design. Parker... she'd find something. Right, baby?" 

Parker frowned. 

"No," she said slowly, "this is what I do now. I'm a thief, and now I'm a good thief. I can't not help people. The best way I know how. And being a thief is the best way I know how." 

"But we... you love Eliot, right?" 

"I do." Parker put on her serious face as she looked between the two of them, clearly turning things over in her head. "And I love the team and I love what we can do together and I love the rush, but the rush isn't everything. I wanna keep doing thief stuff with you, Alec. We're so good together when we're doing the leverage thing. That's what made me fall in love with you. But I fell in love with Eliot because of food." She took Hardison's hands, looking him in the eye. "Would it be so bad if Eliot retired to do his cooking stuff, and we stayed with the team?" 

Eliot could read the heartbreak on Hardison's face. He knew Hardison valued time spent together, car chases or fishing trips or jumpin' off of buildings - whether or not he liked it, he liked that it was with them. Alec didn't want to lose any of that, not if he possibly could. Wanted to follow them both, and now it seemed like they might be going in very different directions. 

"I dunno if I could do it," Eliot said, to stop that expression. "Just stay here, runnin' the pub, while both of you are out there, maybe gettin' hurt without me to protect you." And as he said it, he realized how true it was. "That's what I do. I protect you, I protect the team, while you get the job done. I don't wanna stop doin' that." 

"We'd be okay," Parker told him. "We'd be careful. You've taught us both a lot of stuff." 

Eliot shook his head. "Don't leave me behind because you think it'd be better for me," he said. "It wouldn't. I want to be part of your lives, whatever that looks like." 

"Okay," Parker said, and kissed him softly. 

They spent the rest of the night in a cuddle pile, watching The Thomas Crown Affair for the thirty thousandth time. 

They'd work it out. 


	2. Chapter 2

Next job, Parker got hurt. 

Not bad-hurt, not by Eliot's standards, no concussions or bleeding, just a torn ACL when she took a jump from one moving vehicle into another just as its tire blew out. 

There wasn't anything Eliot could have done to stop it. He was on site with the mark, backing up Sophie. 

It could've been so much worse. 

Hardison fussed over her, of course, getting her to go to the hospital, to use the brace and the crutches, bullying her into staying off it and icing it and taking her meds. 

Eliot mostly watched, and thought. 

This kind of thing was going to happen, whether or not he was part of the team. It didn't happen often, that someone other than him got hurt. But it happened. Hardison had taken a beating, that one time. And he was pretty sure that Nate had hurt his hand, more than once, punching a mark in the face. 

He needed to accept that. 

He didn't used to be so soft about stuff like that. The beginning of the team, that first job, felt like another life. A lot had changed. How he thought about life and death, pain and comfort, violence and gentleness. 

Hardison had always taken care of himself, had always been a criminal, but he had always been gentle. 

Parker wasn't soft, she knew how life could be, but she always did her best not to hurt people. 

He loved them, and the way they thought, the way they were. He loved that they were determined to help people who no one else could help. But the team that Nate had led for so long had him on it for a reason. Because to protect the others, sometimes someone had to be willing to get their hands dirty. 

They made him want to stand between them and the rest of the world, but they also made him want to be better. To be more gentle. To make people's lives more enjoyable. To do more with his knife to create, and less to destroy. 

But they were gonna keep doin' what they did, and he had to damn well get used to it, their being in danger. Decide what part he wanted to play in relation to that. 

* * *

"We've got a job in Japan," Nate told them a few days later. 

Parker's head shot up. "Cool! When are we leaving?" she asked. 

"You're not going, Parker," he told her, rolling his eyes a bit. "You are officially on medical leave." 

"Wait but, what? Hey!" She looked around at each of the others in turn. "What do you mean I'm not going? I'm team, I _have_ to go." 

Hardison's eye twitched. "Bed rest, Parker. _Bed. Rest._ I know the term doesn't exactly translate to your unique relationship with things like buildings and furniture, but it means no flying to Japan and hanging off buildings and stealing shit." 

"I could help other ways! I'm good at stuff! That first job, I grifted in a leg brace and crutches!" 

"Parker," Eliot said quietly, sitting down beside her. "You gotta stay here. Look after the pub, okay? That's the best thing you can do for me an' Hardison while we're gone." 

She wrinkled her nose. Then she glanced over at Nate, who seemed to be engaged in conversation with Sophie, before hissing, "Okay, Eliot, I get why you don't want to retire without us. Now _let me help_." 

He looked at her for a moment, thinking. "You know maybe I could do it," he lied. "Stay in the pub while the team goes off adventurin'. We don't always have to be doin' the same thing all the time. Go our own ways once in a while. Now's our time to try that out, right?" 

Hardison looked torn. He didn't want to leave Parker behind. But she needed rest. She needed _not_ to be climbing buildings in Japan. She needed a reason to stay put. 

Parker narrowed her eyes at them, looking a bit betrayed, but also thoughtful. 

"Fine," she said, crossing her arms. "But steal something cool for me. I've never been to Japan." 

Eliot smiled. "Will do, darlin'," he promised. 

* * *

Eliot knew he was going to be fighting a master of kendo. He'd studied it, long ago, and there was a very particular mindset he needed to be in to remember and predict the kinds of moves he'd need to counter. So he got himself there, settled, and began to wait. 

Parker called him while he was waiting. 

"How's the knee?" he asked quietly, trying to maintain his equanimity and focus. 

"Ah, driving me to crazy town. Pretty much like it's on cruise control, cruising me through crazy town. You know? And let's face it. I have way too much to do. This knee - I need to be on a bullet train through crazy town. I don't have time to stop for gas, go to the museum...." 

"Parker, breathe," he interrupted. Staying in the martial arts place, he tried to think of what his teachers would have said. "Identify your limitations. Turn them to advantages." 

"Okay, good. How do I do that?" 

His opponent was here - Eliot could almost taste his motions on the air. He needed to be ready. 

"Adapt," he told her. "I gotta go." 

"Wait, wait, wait. Eliot - hey - Eliot!" the phone squeaked. But Parker would figure it out. Eliot needed to be here, now. 

She could adapt. 

Maybe all three of them could. 

* * *

Before they left Japan, Eliot checked the news alerts Hardison had set up for him on his phone. Certain names, places, events. Bridgeport Pub was one of them. 

Bridgeport Pub came up, today. There'd been a shooting. 

An attempted kidnapping, interrupted in the middle of the pub. This wasn't on the official news sites, but the "blogosphere," as Hardison called it, provided a couple of eyewitness accounts that a small blond woman had attempted to stop the kidnappers, and had been shot. 

A gut shot, through-and-through. They'd taken her away in an ambulance, sirens blaring. 

He did his best to keep breathing calm. Hardison couldn't know about this. Not before he was sure it was Parker. Not while they were so far away and could do nothing to help. 

They were literally on the other side of the world. Parker might be hurt. She might be dying. She might be dead. 

This was torture. 

He needed to get back, he couldn't ever not be there to protect her, not again. He needed to keep her safe. Keep them both safe. 

He couldn't pull them out of their jobs, pull them away from what they loved to do best. 

But he wanted, he craved, peace and rest and gentleness between times, time to cook and teach, time to sing duets with Hardison to Parker as she fell asleep, time to drag Hardison on fishing trips and end up making out on a sunny dock in the middle of nowhere, time to watch them both eat what he'd made for them. 

Retirement wouldn't be anything unless it was with them. 

* * *

Eliot distracted himself as they made their way into the pub by giving Hardison shit about that snow monkey of his. 

Parker was fine. Sitting there with Amy as if nothing had happened. As if they'd been sitting there watching movies the whole week. 

Eliot breathed properly again. Listened to the banter. Sat through the movie at Parker's side. Helped clean up the popcorn bowls and other detritus. 

It wasn't until the three of them were alone again, tucking Parker back into bed properly, that Eliot let himself start to shake. 

Parker gripped his hand, keeping him there, as she noticed. "What, Eliot?" 

Hardison's head whipped round, and Eliot's face must have shown something too, because he lay down next to Parker and beckoned Eliot closer. "Come on, come here. Get in bed. What's wrong?" 

Eliot took a shaky breath, lay down on his back next to Parker, where he could touch her without having to look at her. "I - I read some things about an attempted kidnapping at the pub. Online, before we left Japan. Small blond female, shot in the gut, through-and-through, rushed to the hospital. Thought it might've been you." 

"Oh." Parker's eyes widened. Then she rolled over on top of Eliot in the bed, looking him in the eye. "I'm safe," she told him. "No bullets. No blood. She's alive, she's fine. She was Portland P. D. who I hacked into having an online date at the pub when I thought things might be going down." 

He smiled up at her helplessly. "Smart girl," he said, resting a hand on her waist, feeling her reassuring weight. 

"You know," she said thoughtfully, "we could do that more often. Pull in other people when there's dangerous stuff that needs doing. Make plans that don't need a hitter so much." 

"I'm not leavin' you," he told her. "Not ever again. You don't have to plan around not havin' me." 

"I'm planning around not having a _hitter,_ " Parker told him. "That doesn't mean I'm planning around not having _you._ You want to retire because you're about cooking, teaching, helping people, but you're not about hitting. You don't want to be a hitter forever, so maybe you stop being a hitter. You're still going to be _ours._ " 

She laid her head down on his chest, turned to the side where Hardison lay. 

"That's true, Baby," Hardison said, reaching out to stroke her cheek, then Eliot's. "We can do this. We can make this work." 

"We can adapt," Eliot agreed. 

The only thing that mattered was that he was home.


End file.
